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Back in late July and early August, we finished a long trip down and up the Oregon coast. Near the end of the trip: South Beach State Park (in Newport).

Here is a thing to know about South Beach State Park: if you want to walk on the beach, you must traverse a stretch of dunes with very soft sand to get there (and to get back to the campground). It can be tiring, especially if you’re carrying a weary terrier.

Sooz grabbed this pic with her phone while we crossed the dunes. These phone cameras are amazingly good.

The beach itself is lovely, running south for many miles–the north end of the park borders a jetty that helps shepherd the tidal currents between Yaquina Bay and the Pacific.

See, there’s that jetty I mentioned. I think it’s forbidden to walk out there, due to danger of being swept away by vicious waves. Does it look like the horizon is tilted a little in this pic? It does, yeah, I know. This is because we’re only a couple of hours from Portland here, and, as you know, Portland is slightly off-center. In a good way!

You can get to the beach with a little less effort if you find the right path — the ADA-compliant one that leads to this nifty boardwalk.

Have we mentioned that Tyler, the Cairn terrier, likes “defined paths?” He does. Sidewalks too. Prefers, I suppose, to be clear on which way to go. He loved this boardwalk, though we did have to carry him at times because it was too hot for his delicate feet. Yes, delicate feet. Maybe Tyler is a little off-center, too.

There are no pictures here of the campground. Why is this? Because, although the campground is perfectly fine and lovingly maintained by those trusty Oregon State Park rangers, it’s really just a place to set up and sleep so you can be at the beach. It’s fine, but unremarkable as a campground. In a good way!

It’s fair to say that these beach campgrounds are packed in the summertime. Why wouldn’t they be? Still, they are not the place to go for solitude and quiet contemplation, unless you bring a blindfold and noise-suppressing headphones. They are good, however, for people-watching, and possibly social experiments you could try, like asking people who they plan to vote for. Go ahead, try that. No, don’t.

We spent most of this 3-night stay visiting with friends and relatives, and there’s no reason to drag them down to our level by featuring them here. We did get a chance to walk to the jetty and back one day, though; there’s a nice multi-purpose trail leading to it.

They say you can’t push a terrier around. But they’re wrong.

One morning we quietly packed up and headed north and, finally, away from the coast, toward our final stop before home. It was L. L. “Stub” Stewart State Park, west of Portland and, we would later learn, just south of the poorest route choice we’ve made to-date.

Yes. When we left Stewart Park, we kept going north. This was an error.

We have a close, longtime friend who lives on the Oregon coast. The three of us used to work, more or less together, at Apple Computer, in the Bay Area, back in the 80s and 90s. Many good times, and many other times, were had.

We all fled the Bay Area at some point — Sooz and I to Washington, and Jane — we’ll call her Jane, though that’s not her real name — to Oregon.

There were those who wondered at our choices. “Doesn’t it rain a lot up there?” But I was a kayaking addict, Sooz likes the natural beauty of the area, and Jane — well, Jane likes the rain.

Not just tolerates it — likes it. Prefers it. Seeks it out. And you may not know this, but if you like rain, the Oregon coast is a good place to be. They get lots of rain — more than twice as much as we do here in the greater Seattle region. (Why are we famous for rain and the Oregon coast is not?).

When we get a downpour here in Gig Harbor, we say to each other “Jane would like this.” (We also say this when we see something purple. Jane likes purple, too.)

So when we arrived at Sunset Bay State Park last July, on our way north toward home, we thought of Jane. Because it rained for most of our stay. Between repeated Jane-mentions, we mostly stayed inside and celebrated not being in a tent.

Note: it’s green outside. Why? Rain.

This park hunkers down, along with two other Oregon State Parks, on a stretch of coastline surrounding Cape Arago. In addition to Sunset Bay, there is Shore Acres State Park and the aptly named Cape Arago State Park, and they’re all just a half-hour or so from Coos Bay, in case you’re wondering.

One day, during a brief not-quite-as-wet spell, we went out exploring.

The botanical garden at Shore Acres State Park, on a drizzly day.

Sailor’s Dread Reef? Devil’s Cauldron? I can’t remember the name. Call it Sensory Overload Cove — it was chilly, quite windy and loud at this spot, midway between Shore Acres and Sunset Bay.

After these forays, the family warmed up in The Toto.

Some will say that it’s possible to overly obsess on Cairn Terriers. The terriers disagree.

We had reserved a campsite as close as possible to the beach, thinking how smart we were to do so. As it turned out, the sites further back into the campground looked more appealing. Our site did have at least one thing in common with the rest of the park: absolutely no mobile network coverage. In that sense, we were in the wilderness.

Jane would have loved this part of the trip. She says she’s going to get her own RV someday, and maybe she’ll head directly for Sunset Bay. Of course she could end up disappointed, arriving on a day like (of course) the morning we left.

Yeah. Sunset Bay, in the morning. Another few hours and we might finally have seen a sunset there.

Maybe we will be back to enjoy this admittedly alluring spot. Not sure… so many new places to explore. For now, our memories of Sunset Bay are mostly…

Can’t complain about the company! I like these creatures.

On that (one) sunny morning, we packed up and headed north toward South Beach State Park, which is very close to where Jane lives. Maybe we would see purple rain, we thought.

With the Oregon Coast Gathering of Fiberglass Trailers receding in our side-view mirrors, we moved toward our southernmost destination for this trip. We had chosen Harris Beach State Park, in part, because it was midway between our home and that of longtime friends from California. They made the drive in two days, then joined us for three decidedly enjoyable nights in this popular park just north of Brookings, Oregon and the California border.

We arrived just before our friends did, set up camp, and watched them roll in in their new motorhome (a really nice one). They parked their rig, set out a few things, and joined us for the short walk to the beach.

We were, all of us (including the terriers) content to shuffle through the sand and stare at the “stars on the water.” Perfect weather. I will admit to being a little warm after pushing the terriers back up the hill in their stroller, but I suppose the exercise didn’t hurt me.

View from our campsite at Harris Beach. That strip of pavement back there is a lightly traveled park road, and that ocean is the eastern Pacific.

The campsites are varied, but all typical for Oregon State Parks — top-notch.

We couldn’t get two ocean-view campsites, but this one, inhabited by our friends from California, was really large and private.

The only “less desirable” campsites we saw were those near an extensive (and heavily used) playground, where many happy children practiced recreational screaming. Of course families with young children would probably prefer these sites — there’s something for everyone — we were glad to be down the road a bit.

The park sports a few trails leading to beach-combing and tide-pooling locations. One foggy morning, the four of us headed down to stare at the tide pools.

At the top, but on the way down to the tide-pools. Fog already thinning!

See that half-moon cove with the vertical fissure above it? There’s a sea star there. Or at least there was on this day. Did Sooz know? Maybe.

We thought briefly about taking the dogs and stroller down this path. Nope — too steep, and too rutted. So the boys napped inside Toto during our excursion.

Sooz stares at orange stuff on the rocks — we’re nearly down at beach level now.

That big rock, or small island, kind-of dominates the western horizon around here. We saw an awful lot of gulls, and possibly some pelicans, careening around out there.

The tide pools were pretty much like you’d expect. Water, anemones, baby crabs, and some flora. Mostly it just felt good to stand there and take it all in.

We opted not to take the same path back up, moving northward along the shoreline instead, and returning to camp via the same (sidewalk) route we had used before. I straggled behind — barely beating the advancing tide past a big outcropping — to get pictures of this fellow.

Orange-tinted sea star, waiting for the tide to rise, and possibly contemplating a run for higher office. Remember that fissure I mentioned? This is right at the bottom.

And, when we returned, the reward for leaving the (perpetually sandy) terriers behind:

Yeah, that’s my pillow. Thanks, Tyler.

Harris Beach is more than just sand and sea stars. It is also Monkey Bread.

Sooz put together this heap of nuggets made of some kind of dough, cinnamon, sugar, and melted butter. Here, the heap awaits charcoal prep.

I forgot to bring our little charcoal chimney, and so piled the briquettes up against the side of the fire pit to get things going. It worked okay.

The Monkey Bread didn’t look all that different after baking, but I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t have liked the raw version. These were quite good.

Also, sunset-watching was a worthwhile endeavor; we made a point of it all three evenings we stayed at Harris Beach.

Still working on those photography lessons. Not there yet.

Our friends moved inland to the fabulous Seven Feathers Casino and RV Resort (we were there last year), and we finally reversed course and headed north toward the greater metropolitan Coos Bay area, where we found abundant fog. Just wait ’til you see the pix.

Return with me now to last month’s sojourn down-and-up the Oregon Coast, okay? Our second stop on the southbound leg was at Beachside State Recreation Area, just south of Waldport, Oregon. This would be only 3.5 hours (or so) of driving from our first campsite at Nehalem Bay State Park, so we took our time — stopping after only an hour to check out this nice rest area.

Just south of Tillamook, we found a small but inviting rest area to walk the terriers and humans. It was one of the nicest we’ve seen.

See what I mean? Creek, meadow, split-rail fence, wildflowers, and very few people. Nice rest area.

Sooz caught some nice views on the way south from Nehalem Bay to Beachside. This one was just outside Depot Bay, Oregon, which features the “World’s Smallest Harbor.” This is not the harbor, though. You can see what lousy weather we were having.

Back on the road and soon we reached our destination. I couldn’t remember exactly what kind of campsite I had reserved — surely the best I could manage, but it’s always a crapshoot. Anyway, we were really pleased to find:

This is site 64 at Beachside State Recreation Area. One site — 63 — looked even more inviting, if that’s possible. No complaints here, though. Only a little dune grass (“under restoration”) separated us from the sand.

It was an interesting, three-night visit. We have family and friends in the area, so there was plenty of socializing. We spent our spare time staring at and/or walking on the sand. The campground abuts seven uninterrupted miles of beach-walking bliss (the interruptions in this part of the world are usually river or bay mouths). I think we did the only true fitness-type walking of our trip while at this campground.

The view from Toto’s rear window. We did not tire of it.

I guess you can’t really do a coastal trip without running into kites. One breezy day, while a longtime friend from back in our Apple Computer days in the 80s and 90s visited with us at the campground, these popped up. Or flew up.

You know you’re on vacation when you take the time to make kite images. These kits were amazing! Yuge. Fantastic. You wouldn’t believe.

Beachside is a smaller campground, and doesn’t have much in the way of Day Use facilities. Maybe that’s why it’s called a State Recreation Area and not a State Park. It was the quietest of the places we visited, and that might be why it was one of our favorites.

From the beach, Toto looked like a large RV — or at least not a tiny one — unless you included other RVs in the picture. Most of the campsites nestle in the grove of cypress-ish trees seen here, and they look quite pleasant, too — though the back row would be too close to U.S. Route 101 for my taste.

What’s not to like about a broad, flat, sandy beach? And a campsite that offers this view?

We heard about a food truck in nearby Waldport that has top-rated burgers. But Chubby Burgers closed an hour before we got there. We’ll have to try it another time.

Beachside doesn’t have sewer hookups or a dump station, but the State Parks let you use one at any park you like when you head out. Our next stop — at Bullard’s Beach State Park near Bandon — would have full hookups and was only a three-hour drive south. So we skipped that step, and didn’t miss it a bit.

In life, you get some valley time, you get some beach time. We completed our valley time on Monday morning and headed for the beach. It was kind-of windy on the way. Felt like a headwind. TinMan’s estimated mileage calculator indicated “keep working, bub, you’re gonna need to buy a lot more gas.”

Yeah. We got to Doran Regional Park, on a sand spit in Bodega Bay, and sure, it was breezy.

Sure, THEY liked the steady, 25-knot wind. But it made the Maxxfan moan all night.

The wind was much, much worse the next day. Fortunately, we weren’t there that much — we were being lost on a dozen different Sonoma County country roads. We got rewarded though: friend Pat gave us four bottles of wine she had made herself (already tested… already loved), and we got to spend time with her fabulous Cairn terriers Runa and Rosso.

Runa and I are going to be good friends, I could tell.

Rosso kept popping up onto my leg to say hi. Maybe he likes me. Maybe he thought I had a treat to offer.

Pat knows all about Cairn terriers. We are Cairn terrier novices compared to her. But it is our privilege to care for two of them, and that is enough. Pat gives us suggestions when we get puzzled about them, and all four of us are better for it. But Pat gave us something even more important than Cairn terrier advice on this trip. She took us to lunch at a charming, small-town eatery. We took two bottles of her own hand-made wine to sample. Dogs stayed behind and played or chilled, we’ll never know.

This is Pat’s wine. She made it. Our job was to drink it. Success!

The next morning, it was time to head back toward home, and we all know what that means… the weather improved. Observe.

When the wind abated, our lives were transformed. For two minutes. Then we had to pack up and head home.

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